


last kiss

by insufferableknowitall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insufferableknowitall/pseuds/insufferableknowitall
Summary: Where were Ron and Hermione when they realized that Harry had gone to the forest? Mid Battle of Hogwarts fic for the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Quite angsty and a bit fluffy, I love my now-or-never babies!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 84





	1. amidst the battle

Ron realized he was missing with a dawning sense of dread. In the bustle of things, amidst the thickness of grief in the Great Hall, Harry had slipped away. It felt like he was floating when he turned around, tore his eyes from his brothers body and expected to see his two best friends standing there.

He saw Hermione, and he was flooded with comfort. And then he noticed who was missing, and that was replaced with dread.

It was communicated with a glance - Ron reached for Hermione and cocked an eyebrow quizzically, silently asking where Harry had gone. Her face flushed pale and she whipped her head around frantically.

“He was just…here.”

Nobody around them, except for Ginny, seemed to catch on. Hermione met Ginny’s eyes, and she knew something was wrong, instantly. “I’ll be right back,” Ginny mumbled, her face flushed red as she slipped away from her family and towards the corridor. Neither Ron nor Hermione bothered to stop her; they knew she’d gone to try and find Harry. With one last glance at the mourning Weasley family, the two of them attempted to slip away after her.

The two of them were bombarded with questions from members of the DA, those who remained, at least. “You don’t think he’s turned himself in?” Hermione whispered, after they’d finally shook themselves of Ernie MacMillan and his persistent questions.

“Nah,” Ron said. But he had a hard time believing his own words.

By the time Ron and Hermione made it into the corridor, nearly fifteen minutes had passed. People had already started dispersing, in search of loved ones throughout the castle that would be brought back to the Hall, wondering when and if the battle would pick up again.

They found the youngest Weasley just outside the Great Hall. She’d gotten sidetracked; there she sat, on the floor, crouched over a small, young girl who was crying. “It’s okay,” Ginny said, though her words were empty. Ron and Hermione knew who she had gone to look for. Knew she hadn’t found him.

She looked up at the pair and spoke the only words she could manage. “Where’s Harry?”

They didn’t have an answer, and the feeling of dread frantically spread throughout their bodies.

“He’s not…” Ginny began.

“No,” Ron said, “No, no, he wouldn’t…”

“Maybe he’s...the pensieve?” Hermione suggested.

“Yeah...yeah!” Ron nodded in agreement.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. Though at this point, she was used to the conversations between the trio passing over her head.

Just as Ron and Hermione were moving to search for Harry, ready to tear up the stairs towards Dumbledore’s office, Neville came running down the corridor and stopped dead in front of them. “Harry…” he said, out of breath and clutching his side, “I just saw him…”

All three of them burst into question at once:

“What?”

“Where?”

“What’s he doing?”

“I dunno…” Neville said, running a hand through his hair, “He told me...told me to kill the snake…” He looked from Ron to Hermione, who both wore the shock plainly on their faces, and began to falter. “You don’t think...you don’t think he’s gone to... _him_ , do you?”

The answer to his question was plain on their faces. Even Ginny, who didn’t know about the significance of the snake, had understood that this was bad from the expressions on Ron’s and Hermione’s faces. Harry was passing off his tasks to somebody else. He was turning himself in.

“No,” Ginny said. She removed her arm from the small girl who still sat on the floor, who was still wiping her eyes and did not understand the gravity of the conversation passing before her. “No. He...he would, wouldn’t he? ...that noble, self-sacrificing prick…” Ginny’s face had gone redder, not with embarrassment, but with anger. She shook, just slightly, looking from Ron to Hermione and begging them to prove her wrong. “He went, didn’t he? He bloody went.”

“I...I didn’t know…” Neville whispered, eyes wide.

“He...he couldn’t...he couldn’t have,” Hermione muttered. She glanced up at Ron and the words died in her mouth.

The grief and anger that had been in Ron's face when Fred died was amplified. The tears were forming freely, tracking clearly down his face through the grime and blood, and he shook his head. “No,” he said, as if he could will Harry back to them with a simple word, “No, he...I can’t…” He turned to face Hermione and her heart nearly shattered onto the floor. She’d never seen him so broken. “I can’t lose him too,” he whispered.

“But he...the pensieve…” Hermione spluttered, clinging to the last shred of hope she could.

“He told Neville to kill the snake,” Ron countered pointedly, and then he pounded a fist against the wall, making the others all jump slightly.

“Ron - " Hermione started. She gripped his hand and caught his eyes with hers, and just as quickly as the grief had seemed to take control of Ron, he steadied himself with her gaze. He looked at the others, Ginny pacing angrily and Neville with his face buried in his hands, and then spoke with a newfound air of authority.

“Right,” Ron said, blinking rapidly as the tears continued to pour down his face, his heart still shattered because he couldn’t lose Harry, couldn’t lose another brother, couldn’t bear the thought of it. But he had to fight on. “Neville, if...if Harry told you to get the snake, you’ve gotta tell everyone else. That’s the most...most important thing right now.” He sniffed loudly. Neville nodded and without another word, disappeared into the Great Hall to rally members of the DA.

“Ginny,” he said, and his sister stopped pacing to look at him. Her eyes were also full of tears. “Ginny, you’ve got to...got to get to Mum, and Dad, make sure...make sure they get Fred out of here, and…”

“Okay,” she said. She looked at her brother, stared at him for a moment longer than she usually would have, and then, before retreating inside the Hall, she threw her arms around him. “If he did it…” she stammered, her voice at his ear, “I...I’m so mad at him…”

“I know,” Ron said back. She released him, then turned and embraced Hermione, and then disappeared back into the Hall. Ron and Hermione were left standing there, alone, the little girl Ginny had been comforting had disappeared into the Hall after her.

“Hermione,” Ron spoke, looking directly into her eyes, “You’ve got to leave. He’s gonna come back in here, he’s gonna try and kill muggleborns, you’ve got to get out of here. Shell Cottage should be safe, and…and then I’ll find V-Voldemort, and...”

“No,” Hermione said back, shaking her head adamantly, “I’m not leaving, Ron, we’ve been over this, you’re in just as much danger - “

“PLEASE!” he shouted, and she stepped back in surprise.

“Ron - “

“Please,” he said again, his voice quiet this time. “I...can’t...Fred, and now Harry….and I can’t lose you too, Hermione, I _can’t_ , I don’t know what I’d...just... _please_.”

“You think I don’t feel the same way?” she said back, quietly but with an air of stubborness.

Ron’s retort was lost in the sound of Voldemort’s voice, reverberating around their minds.

_“Harry Potter is dead.”_

The rest of his speech was lost to Ron - all he could think, all he could feel, was the grief for his best friend - no, more than that, Harry was his brother. The walls seemed to be closing in around him, and the only thing that was real was Hermione’s hand, which was now gripping onto his, vicelike, as if their lives depended on it.

People emerged into the corridor from the Hall, slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep. Any last sliver of hope the people had seemed to have drained from all, except Neville, who charged ahead of the others, yelling battle cries as he ran towards the courtyard. Percy, of all people, had his arm wrapped around Ginny, who’s anger had crumpled into a grief so palpable, like Ron’s. He closed his eyes as the rest of his family passed by, in a daze. He couldn’t bear to look at his mother.

Ron and Hermione glanced at one another, frozen in the corridor, unable to fully comprehend what had happened.

“I’m not leaving,” Hermione said softly, and Ron nodded. He’d known it was a futile question, to ask her to leave. He’d known that she wouldn’t be Hermione if she didn’t stay. “We’ll...we’ll kill him together...we’ll finish this.” She was crying now, too, but her voice didn’t waver.

His heart broke, because he worried that he couldn’t keep her safe. Couldn’t keep any of his family safe.

Didn’t keep Harry safe. Or Fred.

“Hermione,” he said, his voice small, “Stay by my side. I’ll...I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

She nodded. “Always.”

The last of the crowd was trickling out towards the grounds, the only ones who stayed behind were Madame Pomfrey and a group of healers, still tending frantically to the wounded. Ron and Hermione began to walk towards the castle doors, in a daze.

Before they reached the courtyard, Ron’s grip on Hermione tightened, and he stopped her in her tracks with four words: “I love you, Hermione.” And then he kissed her, more hurriedly and frantically than the last time, as if trying to convey all seven years of feelings he’d had for in one kiss, one last kiss - and she could have stayed there forever, hidden away from the terrors outside and their dead best friend and the war that would continue to rage on -

But they had to finish this.

They broke apart, and together, they walked forward to face whatever awaited them.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t their last kiss. Not even close. Both had stopped counting somewhere around ten. 

In the bright-orange bedroom on the topmost floor of the Burrow, his lips crashed into hers the second the door swung shut and she tugged on his shirt to guide the pair of them to his bed, bodies pressed to one another desperately; they forgot they had time, now. They’d become too used to living on borrowed time. They sunk onto the bedsheets, her hands ran through his hair, and they forgot about the world.

It was a few days after the battle, the night before Fred’s funeral, and the entire Weasley house was cloaked in a palpable kind of grief, so heavy that the air that hung around the kitchen felt thick like molasses. By eight o’clock, each member had disappeared into bedrooms. Ron supposed that maybe, he should have been preparing for the funeral, like his mother would want him to - he should have been laying out folded, black dress robes. Should have been trying his hand at writing a speech, one he knew he’d never be able to get through more than a word of without choking up. Should have been getting a good night’s sleep. Should have been comforting his mum, or George. 

Yet the only place he could bear to be was alone in his bedroom with Hermione. And the only thing he could bear to do was to hold onto her. The rest of the world felt like a nightmare, without Fred, but with her, it was a dream. 

She felt him change as the thoughts of the funeral clouded into his mind, could tell because his hands began to shake, just slightly, as they gripped her waist and his cheeks were wet with a few tears that had managed to escape against his will. She pulled away and clutched his face between her hands. 

“I’ll stay here tonight,” she told him, the determined, defiant look in her eyes that he’d always loved, “I don’t care what your mum says, you need me, and I’m sure Harry will be happy to stay with Ginny - ”

“Ah, don’t bring those two up,” Ron said, his voice thick yet still, he cracked a small smile, “I’m already in a state as it is.”

She smiled softly and wiped a tear from his face. He tried to reach out and pull her towards him again - she let him press his lips against hers, just for a moment, and then pulled away. “Ron,” she said, the anxious, worried edge in her voice slipping through, “You know...you know it’s okay to just cry, right?”

“Mmm.”

“And it’s a bit difficult for me to snog you while I’m worried about you crying.”

“Maybe now you’ll understand what Harry went through with Cho fifth year.”

She cocked an eyebrow, and then let out a laugh. “Maybe I will. But if I recall correctly, you were the one completely baffled by her range of emotion.”

“Guess I’ve grown since then.”

“I guess so.” 

She proceeded to prop herself up, a business-like expression on her face that made Ron groan. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” she said, and he didn’t have to speak for her to know the answer: it was clear by the look in his eyes - guilt mixed with terror. “Talk to me,” she said, and this time she spoke more quietly, and the way she was looking at him - her brow furrowed with concern, her own eyes slightly glossy - nearly did him in. 

He couldn’t lie to her. 

“Just...it feels unfair,” he mumbled.

“What does?”

He motioned between the two of them, not daring to look into her eyes, because if he did he might start crying again. “Us. You know. Being...being happy and stuff, with Fred...gone.”

Her expression softened even more, which he had not thought possible. “I know,” she said. 

“And it’s just, if he’d been, I dunno, a little to the left, when the wall exploded, maybe he would have...it just...feels like if it had to be someone...I don’t know why it was him.”

“What do you mean?” she sat up more and narrowed her eyes at him. 

He didn’t answer. 

“Don’t you dare say it should have been you,” she said, her tone quite similar to the one she used when lecturing him and Harry about homework. The expression on her face was so comfortingly familiar he almost let out a laugh. But then she looked him in the eyes and said in a much smaller voice, “Don’t say that, Ron. Please.”

And that did him in. 

She pulled his head towards her shoulder, his tears soaked through her thin pajama top, her own tears trickled down into his hair as she clutched onto him, smoothed her hand down his back and thought of Fred, and of Tonks, and Lupin, and everyone else they had lost. Even Harry, who they’d lost for those few terrible, aching minutes. Together, their hearts broke. Together, they mended. 

After what felt like hours, his sobs began to quiet, as did hers. His breath steadied against her, and she could have sworn he was falling asleep, but then he sat, finally, his eyes locked onto hers. “Thanks,” he mumbled. She nodded and sniffed, and he gripped her hand, not breaking eye contact. 

“Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking. After all this...this funeral business...we should go get your parents. From Australia. I mean, maybe first we’ll make sure Harry’s okay, stick around a bit to be sure he doesn’t disappear or do something stupidly reckless, but then...we should get your parents.”

She was quiet for a moment and blinked. “We?”

In the darkness, she saw his cheeks flush red. “I mean, yeah, if you want me to come, that is.”

“Of course I do.” She smiled at him. “But...Ron, I...I can’t ask you to leave your family, not for me. If you need to stay with your family…”

“You’re my family too, Hermione.”

Hermione Granger was rarely at a loss for words, so when she couldn’t think of an adequate enough response to that, she did the only other thing she could think of: she kissed him, because she could now, all those years of pretending were behind them, all those months of waiting because they were afraid of what would happen, afraid they didn’t have much time left. And now, if she had anything to say about it, they’d never have a last kiss. 

They had time. They had all the time in the world. It was unreal, uncharted terrority; terrifying and exhilarating. It was hope. And so, they clung to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all enjoyed!!! had this little nugget of a follow-up to the first one, and thanks to encouragement decided to post. :) wanted to write a happy hopeful follow-up, becuase I think we all need a little hope right now...I know I do.


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